After undergoing vocal cord surgery in 1977, Tyler mistakenly screamed during her recovery period. This accidentally gave her voice a permanent, raspy, heavy-grit texture. On stage, this allowed her to deliver country-rock ballads like “It’s a Heartache” with an unpolished, heart-wrenching sincerity that echoed Janis Joplin and Tina Turner.

Having honed her craft for years on the rigorous South Wales pub and nightclub circuit, her 1970s stage demeanor was deeply grounded, organic, and conversational. During this decade, her stage attire was relatively understated compared to what would follow. She frequently performed in simple, relaxed 1970s trousers, casual blouses, and naturally styled hair, relying strictly on her vocal power rather than major production elements to captivate the room.

Transitioning into the 1980s, Tyler partnered with epic rock composer Jim Steinman. Her live sets transformed overnight into thunderous, operatic experiences. When performing “Total Eclipse of the Heart” or “Holding Out for a Hero,” she channeled immense physical energy, gripping the microphone stand tightly, pacing the stage, and unleashing soaring, full-throttle high notes with intense facial expressions.

Her standalone 1980s concerts featured massive stadium-level elements, incorporating heavy smoke machines, dramatic pulsing spotlight choreography, and an incredibly loud, synth-and-guitar-heavy backing band. Her look became a visual staple of the decade. She dominated the stage sporting massive, voluminous teased blonde hair, oversized statement earrings, heavy leather jackets, bold denim-on-denim coordinates, and extravagant sequin-overloaded blouses with bat-wing silhouettes.

Though she grew up in the secluded Irish countryside at St. Clerans, the estate of her larger-than-life director father, John Huston, Anjelica moved to London as a teenager. By 1968, at just 16 and 17 years old, her distinct look caught the attention of the fashion elite. Unlike the hyper-youthful “dolly bird” look popularized by Twiggy, Anjelica brought something older, more regal, and heavily reminiscent of her mother, the Italian-American prima ballerina Enrica Soma. She possessed a strong, sculptural nose, high cheekbones, and an effortless, statuesque posture.

Her true breakthrough into the upper echelon of modeling came when legendary photographer Richard Avedon encountered her. Recognizing her unconventional beauty, Avedon ran a massive, multi-page spread of a 17-year-old Anjelica in the pages of Vogue in 1968. He took her to the rugged landscapes of Ireland and Scotland, capturing her in dramatic, sweeping capes, heavy furs, and structured woolen garments. The images combined a raw, romantic old-world atmosphere with the sharp, graphic sensibilities of late-1960s editorial photography.

While her modeling career was soaring, her transition to cinema at the end of the decade was fraught with tension. Her father insisted on casting her as the lead in his 1969 medieval romance film, A Walk with Love and Death. Anjelica, just 17 during filming, did not want the role and felt entirely unready. The production strained her relationship with her father, who was notoriously tough on set, and the film was critically panned. The experience temporarily soured her desire to act, prompting her to focus almost entirely on photography and runway modeling as she moved into the 1970s.

“I was 16, and I wanted to be a model in London, to wear miniskirts and have Jean Shrimpton’s hair. My father wanted me to be a medieval princess.” – Anjelica Huston, reflecting on her late-60s transition from modeling to film.

Long before he became an icon for breaking the “no dancing” rule in Footloose, a young Kevin Bacon was putting his rhythm to use on eight wheels in New York City. The year was 1979, and the roller disco craze was sweeping across America. At the time, Bacon was a struggling actor working as a busboy in Manhattan. He had bought a pair of quad skates in 1977 and became an avid street skater.

Because elite, flashy New York roller clubs like The Roxy and Xenon were far too expensive for a busboy’s budget, Bacon took his talents to the pavement, spending hours grooving, spinning, and practicing roller disco out in Central Park.

While skating in the park, an acquaintance who was putting together a project to capitalize on the exploding trend approached him. The pitch was simple: “Hey, I’m writing a book about this roller disco thing. Do you want to be a model?” Desperate for the gig, Bacon agreed. He ended up being featured as an instructional model in the 1979 paperback book titled How to Disco Rollerskate.

“Back when I was working as a busboy, I got a gig to model for a how-to roller disco book,” he recalled. “For reference, this move is called ‘Shoot the Duck.’”

In the book’s black-and-white photo spreads, a young, heavily feathered-haired Kevin Bacon can be seen demonstrating highly technical maneuvers, including a left-hand turn transition and a classic 1970s skate trick called the “Can Opener.”

Years later, Bacon revisited the memory on The Late Late Show, admitting that while he still owns those original 1977 skates, his feet have grown two sizes since his days as a Central Park roller disco model. Still, during the 2020 lockdowns, he famously dusted them off to post “Roller Disco” dance videos from his basement, proving he’s still got the moves.

They delivered hot tea, buns, pies, sandwiches, and sometimes cigarettes or other small comforts to shelterers emerging from the night’s bombings, rubble-clearing crews (like the Pioneer Corps or Royal Engineers), bombed-out residents, and emergency services. Tea was a huge morale booster, often called Britain’s “secret weapon,” and the canteens operated at cost with no profit.

Volunteers started shifts as early as 2:30 a.m. to catch people heading to work after sheltering. They worked in dangerous conditions near bomb sites, during or right after raids, often under blackout rules with torches and basic equipment like primus stoves and Thermos urns.

The WVS (founded 1938) had around a million members by the end of 1941. Many were women from various social backgrounds, including “society girls.” They also helped with evacuations, clothing distribution, and other civil defense work. Mobile canteens were funded through donations and fundraising.

It’s a colorful, star-studded fantasy-musical where she teams up with Dan Gilroy (as Gordon Goose) to find the missing Mother Goose (Jean Stapleton) and her lost sheep in Rhymeland. The film features a wild array of cameos from musicians and actors like Little Richard (Old King Cole), Cyndi Lauper, Debbie Harry, Woody Harrelson, Paul Simon, ZZ Top, Bobby Brown, and more.

Filming happened over about 21 days in a repurposed warehouse on a $2.5 million budget, with vibrant, whimsical sets designed by Allee Willis and costumes by Patricia Field (which won an Emmy).

Duvall and Gilroy met on this project and later became longtime partners. The movie has a cult following for its campy, trippy 1980s-90s charm, think a rock ‘n’ roll nursery rhyme world.